


That Night

by SaltQueen42



Category: French History RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/M, I wrote this for an english class, based off of a real event i read about, but the rest is english, oh yeah the dialogue is french, woop woop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 08:54:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18891310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltQueen42/pseuds/SaltQueen42
Summary: He hated dancing. And now you knew why.Based off of a real event





	That Night

He stepped out of the carriage before me, helping me out after. We walk into the grand ballroom together and he instantly pulls me off to the side to sit at a table.  
I pout a bit, “Mais je veux danser!” I huff as he shakes his head.  
“Pourquoi pas?” He shakes his head again when I ask him.  
“Réponds-moi!” I grab his hand to urge him to speak.  
“Ça n'a pas d'importance!” He finally answered, “Je ne veux pas.”  
“Bien, je trouverai quelqu'un d'autre pour danser avec.” I stand and wander off, soon being swept up by another man. We held light conversation as we danced.  
“Êtes-vous ici avec quelqu'un?” he asked rather politely.  
“Oui.” I gave a simple answer, not wanting to get too personal.  
“Avec qui êtes-vous?” He added on, still trying not to make me uncomfortable.  
“Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette.” I spoke quietly.  
“Oh? Je pense qu'il danse avec la Reine en ce moment” He glanced to the center of the ballroom.  
I looked over with a little shock, “Il m'a dit qu'il ne voulait pas danser…” I let go of the man I was dancing with and moved closer to them, “Pourtant, il danse avec Marie-Antoinette.” I knew it was her, because of her dress. I was slightly mad as i reached the edge of the circle of people that had formed around them. He missed every few steps, stepped on her toes twice and tripped on her dress. Marie began to laugh, making him blush. I stepped forwards a bit, holding out my hand for him to take. Others around us began to laugh as I grabbed his hand and nearly dragged him out of the ballroom. We make it to the street and he is nearly crying.  
“Mon chérie, ne t'inquiète pas, ça ira.” I raise my hands to hold his face, and his grab my wrists, pulling them down.  
“Je vais bien, je dois faire une promenade.” He began to walk away slowly.  
“Je vous verrai à la maison…” It came out as more of a whisper. I was left on the street in paris for a few minutes before i brushed the invisible dust off my corset and skirt and began the walk towards my home. I got there before him. I changed Into a nightgown, seeing that it was late, and lit a few lanterns to place around the house. I put one out front for Gilbert.  
He came home a while later, shivering.  
I went to help him immediately, sitting him on the floor in front of the fire. I took his jacket and hung it near the door.  
I sat beside him on the floor, “Mon amour, où êtes-vous allé?” He shook his head. I could tell he was tired. So was I.  
He laid back on the floor in front of the fire, I joined him. We fell asleep like that, together, on the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh well, im sorry if you cant read french, just dont get mad. i warned you in the tags.


End file.
